


Moon Dance

by IntoTheWilds



Category: Criminal Minds, X-Men
Genre: Abuse, Angry Spencer, Childbirth, Distrustful Spencer, Feral Heat Cycle, M/M, Male Carrier, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of past Spencer/Creed, Mostly X-Men, Mpreg, Multi, Past Underage, Rape scene!!!, Secondary Genders, Slash, Slightly A/B/0 in regards Feral Mutants, Stillbirth, Warped Love, au!, past dubious consent, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2019-11-17 17:08:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18102800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheWilds/pseuds/IntoTheWilds
Summary: Running from pain, his world in turmoil, Spencer finds himself taken in by a red eyed mutant named Remy who only wants to help along with his growly companion, Logan.Love had never been on the cards for Spencer and yet he falls hard, only someone already seems to feel they made a claim on him and he wants his Spencer back.





	1. My Demons, My Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blufirewing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blufirewing/gifts).



                      

 

****

Age fourteen, that’s when Spencer Reid remembered his life thoroughly going to hell. Naturally, his existence had been no picnic before that. A father who ran when things became too hard, a mother most often out of her mind and an intelligence that caused more grief than anything else, but that was nothing compared to what happened at age fourteen. A student at Caltech, studying his ass off, attempting to care for his schizophrenic mother while avoiding debt and being taken by child services, Spencer woke one morning to a fevered nightmare. He remembered with the clearest of clarity the raw pain shifting through his body in horrific waves. The endless hours of agony and the mix of unconsciousness and burning awareness until it was simply gone and from there everything had changed.

Bad enough to be born a male carrier, a rare secondary gender that allowed men to carry a pregnancy, but to discover he was a mutant? Well, why not toss that into the pot that was already the stew of his mangled life, because it was from there it all went downhill. Superhuman senses, agility, and reflexes he could handle. The ability to suddenly rapidly heal any wound most definitely had its perks, but it was the animal attributes Spencer could have lived without. His canines had lengthened, hair taking on a fur like quality and his eyes had become distinctly feline. He had retractable claws and much to his chagrin had the tendency to purr when especially content.

At first he wasn’t sure about how he felt. Normal had been a very rarely used phrase in regards him, but this was a little more than simply being unique. In those first moments he wasn’t to know what awaited him when someone knocked upon his door and everything else that followed. He wasn’t to know just how thoroughly a mess his life would become.

The streets were hardly his first choice, but it was the only option he had and it gave a whole new meaning to living it rough. A world without walls was a twisted and decrepit one. Scoundrels waited in the shadows, prostitutes hissed out profanities from the dark dank corners and everything came with a price.

Spencer was two years on the streets, jumping from place to place when desperation led him to one of the worst decisions of his life. Usually if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. That logic, however, didn’t stop him. Not when the cold of a brutal winter came so close to almost killing him. Like the manifestation of his powers, he couldn’t remember much from that dreadful night. The snow had been inches thick and kept falling adding to the pile. Cars were scarce, the roads too unsafe for driving and the silence of the malignant allies was nothing more than the empty echo of impending death. Shivering in an alcove, jumping at every unfamiliar sound, Spencer had felt himself drifting. Sound seemed to recede and when blood started to stall out getting to his major extremeties, he knew he was in trouble, but his brain was fogged and the whole freezing to death scenario suddenly seemed amusing. His vision dimmed and the last he saw before blackness was a pair of sturdy boots and the hem of a tattered coat.

When he woke it was to a roaring fire in an abandoned office, in some rundown building, a mountain of blankets and a large man watching him from just across the room. Long ropes of blonde hair spilled about broad shoulders. His clothing threadbare and tattered, he had a ruggedly handsome face and Spencer instantly knew he was a mutant and a feral to boot the moment his scent hit him. Instinct screamed at him to flee, but Victor Creed, as he had introduced himself, calmed him with some gentle words. He offered food, comfort and a stability Spencer hadn’t known in quite some time and despite all the alarm bells blaring in his head, Spencer opted to stay.

Five years in Dante’s inferno he got for that blunder.

Five years of blood, pain and a brute of a mate he had never intended on.

Well, like all prison sentences, in one way or another, they all come to an end.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

There were so many ways Spencer pictured spending his twenty-first birthday. Sitting in a rundown hovel that just about posed as a diner was not one of them. Currently one of the only patrons in the place, he sat curled about a chipped mug that was supposed to contain coffee, but looked more like lumpy mud. Still, it was warm and needing to stay alert, Spencer thought it best not to complain. The weather had switched from slightly cold, to horribly dismal earlier that morning. He could hear the splash of large puddles with every passing car and a rather generic radio was just about belching out the morning news, though it was hard to tell between all the bouts of crackling static. The small angry looking waitress bitched while she worked and every now and again she had an exchange of vicious words between herself and the rough looking cook. Spencer watched it all through a curtain of messy curls, movements jittery, constantly ready to run.

He blamed Creed for that. That kind of terror had not yet been bred into him before he had met the brutish feral. Now, it was all he knew.

The rain was coming down heavier. A roaring, vengeful storm of wet, savaging the small town below. It distorted the images outside, forcing those out in it to seek shelter. The diner doors opened and a small group who were soaked to the bone stumbled in. One was a tall man, taller than Spencer. He strangely wore sunglasses and was laughing jovially. “ _Mon dieu_! It’s raining like cats an’ dogs out dere!” His accent was thick with New Orleans, a long trench coat whirling about a lean frame, russet red hair fall about a sharp angular face and his smile was near infectious. He didn’t appear to be with the others and made his way toward the counter alone, ordering a coffee and food.

“Hey...” Startled, Spencer lifted his gaze. A man loomed over him, sneering darkly. He had never heard him approach and cursed his stupidity. One of them was bound to eventually notice him and of course it would be the thickly muscled Neanderthal bulling for a fight. “You got permission to be in here, mutie?”

Now, this was something Spencer always found hilarious. One would think if someone was aware the person in front of them was a mutant, they would have the good sense not to challenge that person—the whole powers thing being the difference between a bad or good idea—But, evidently not, which is why situations like this often occurred. “I don’t require permission to be in here.” Spencer dead panned, tone brisk. He went back to his coffee, not bothered by the other or his discriminative hang ups.

That sneer twisted, eyes narrowing with malice, he reached out grabbing Spencer’s wrist, temper dripping from his every pore. “You little shit! I—Hey!”

Spencer had been ready to bite the grabby bastard, but it had turned out to be unnecessary. Between one second and the next, the cheerful Cajun had crossed the diner and yanked the idiot back. Casually sipping his coffee, he savoured the flavour a moment, never releasing his grip. “Now, now, _homme_ , did y’r mama never teach y’ t’ keep y’r hands t’ y’rself?”

“No one asked you, shades!” Wriggling out of his grip, the idiot who didn’t know went to quit, pointed a finger in Spencer’s direction. “We don’t want his kind in here!”

Laughing huskily, the man reached for his shades and pulled them away and Spencer was surprised to see demon like red irises against a backdrop of inky black. Pink sparks danced about his long fingers, making the other jerk back. “Y’ were sayin’ _mon ami_ _?_ Remy didn’t quite hear y’.”

Not really in the mood to see a macho display between the mutant hater and the mutant, with the already staring patrons watching the whole thing and certainly not over him, Spencer pushed away his coffee, grabbed his bag and walked around the pair, heading for the door. The storm outside was certainly a better option.

“Wait!” Remy was honestly surprised when the kid upped and walked out. Setting down his barely touched coffee, brushing off the big mouth with ease, he darted out after him, cursing when he was instantly drenched again. “Hey, wait a minute dere, _cher_!”

“What for?” Spencer retorted. “I’m not thanking you for throwing your weight around.”

Remy honestly stumbled. Was this kid for real? Now, maybe it was just a tad egotistical of him, but a thank you wouldn’t have killed him. Using his longer legs, the Cajun cut in front of him, easily blocking his path. “A snarky one, ain’t y’? No manners either.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, “I’m not about to thank anyone for brutish behaviour.” Trying to dodge around him, Spencer cursed when Remy followed the movement. “Move.”

“Y’ got some bite on y’ dat’s f’r sure,” Remy chuckled, voice rough from years of smoking, “I meant no harm. Clearly y’ ain’t de knight an’ shining armour type. _Mais_ , it is pouring an’ y’ look like a drowned cat...Clearly y’ got no wheels, so, how ‘bout I give y’ a lift?”

Pouring was putting it mildly. Spencer was already soaked, shivering against the cold. He had very little in a way of possessions and couldn’t remember the last time he ate, so at least getting his sorry ass out of the rain would be something. “Where are you going?” His tone had less bite to it this time, but it wasn’t by much.

“On m’ way home t’ New York. I can drop y’ wherever y’ wanna go, _cher._ ” Remy responded cheerfully.

“That would make the first town at least a day away,” Spencer swiftly calculated.

“ _Oui_ , if dat’s where y’ wanna go,” Rooting for his keys, Remy tossed them up and down, “So what do y’ say? Better dan sticking around de haters, _non_?”

Spencer hated how much of a point he had. So far none of the idiots in the diner had followed them, but that wasn’t to say they hadn’t called the authorities and there was also the issue of getting as far away from Creed as was physically possible. With a defeated sigh he nodded. “Fine, but we’ll need to stop on the way. It’s not safe to drive for that length of time.”

“Dat’s not an issue,” Remy said waving away his concerns, “dere be a motel half way. Y’ can grab y’rself a nice shower and I can get us food. I doubt y’ve had a decent meal any time recently.”

“Why are you even helping me anyway?” Spencer asked, not quite able to curb his suspiciousness. “You don’t know me.”

“Kindness doesn’t need a reason, _cher_.” Remy pointed out gently. “Now come on, I’m parked over here.”

Hoping he wouldn’t come to regret it, Spencer followed. Remy’s car turned out to be something akin to an armoured truck and was a mix of black and blood red. Spencer had the urge to say it really brought out his eyes, but resisted the temptation. No point in pissing off the source to his good fortune. The damn thing had central heating and could be neon pink for all he cared. The minute Remy turned the ignition, music blared to life. Spencer drifted on a cloud of soothing warmth, falling asleep with the brief thought that he had never given his name.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Creed stood at the edge of a small encampment, heart thundering in his chest and a mix of fury and cold misery fighting for dominance within his veins. Three days. He had told Spencer he would be back in three days when he had moved them here from their previous settlement. But what he had not expected was to come back to his mate gone! The smell of the younger feral was stagnant. He had been gone quite some time and after tearing through their little home, when he found certain belongings missing, he knew without a doubt Spencer would be nowhere to be found. He then tore the camp apart out of anger and when the rage dissipated, he just stood, frozen and exhausted.

This was his fault, all of it. The memories from only days ago cut through him, images he would never, ever be able to force away.

“ _....You are not leaving!”_

“ _....Let me go, Victor!”_

“ _....You’re mine!”_

The screams that had followed, the one mistake he could never take back, it would haunt him forever. Kicking through what was left, Creed grabbed stuff at random before starting out. No matter his screw ups, Spencer was his and he was determined to bring his wayward mate home.

  


 


	2. Absence Of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh! So I had this up a couple of days ago, but for some reason no one got alerts or whatever and it never moved to the top of my stories with the new post..... So I deleted and reposted it and it seems to be doing what it should be!  
> So hopefully you'll get the alerts this time!!  
> Enjoy  
> xxx

_Pain and the red, always the red. It echoed through his body in a violent song. The crescendo ripping him apart, obliterating him with one dark note._

_...You’re not leaving!..._

_...Let me go, Victor!..._

_...You’re mine!..._

_Red, nothing but the red._

“ _Kid?”_

_It was tearing through him, endless as it took him apart piece by piece, shredding him till there was nothing left._

“ _Petit, can y’ hear me...?”_

_Red....Red....Red!!_

“HEY!”

Spencer jerked awake, heart hammering in his chest and jumbled thoughts raging anarchy inside his skull. At first he didn’t know where he was, a mild growl building in his throat, until he recognised the eyes across from him, staring at him with concern. His strained muscles relaxed and he sagged against the seat, panting heavily.

“Are y’ okay, _cher_?” Remy demanded frantically. “Y’ were going apeshit! Been tryin’ t’ wake y’ f’r ten minutes!”

Spencer ignored him a second and just took the time to breathe. The thunderous rhythm of his heart gradually slowed to a normal volume and when he was sure the organ wasn’t about to make an escape through his chest, he responded with an irritable, “Nightmare.” It was short and sweet, but it certainly summed up the problem and lucky for Spencer it was all the explanation Remy needed because he ask. Sitting up straighter, the feral noticed they were parked outside a little motel. A vacancy sign blazed above their heads and loud music blasted from one of the rooms furthest down, youngsters falling in and out, laughing and quite inebriated.

“We’re stopping here f’r de night, _cher,_ ” Remy said, deciding not to probe further on his bad dream. “I need some shut eye an’ food an’ so do y’. We’ll get movin’ at first light.” A shrug and a grunt was the only response Remy received. Too used to his lover Logan’s growly behaviour he wasn’t the least bit phased. In fact it was so familiar it was amusing. Shutting off the engine, Remy climbed from the car, long legs moving fluidly. He tossed a grin to his companion. “Oh! Before I f’rget! Honestly, should have done dis back at de diner. M’ name is Remy Etienne LeBeau.” A sweeping bow and another smile. “ _Et ton nom est.._.?”

Luckily for them both, Spencer spoke French and easily understood the Cajun’s query. “Spencer Reid.”

Again with the short clipped responses, but Remy didn’t mind. He knew when someone had been hurt and were protecting themselves. “A pleasure t’ meet y’.”

Spencer didn’t respond. Honestly, he hadn’t decided yet if meeting Remy was a good thing or a bad thing. Good fortune wasn’t something Spencer was used to and when kindness was shown he tended to react with suspicion and anger. He truly couldn’t remember the days when that wasn’t the case.

Following Remy into the motel reception, Spencer kept his eyes downcast. No sense in freaking out anyone if he could avoid it and people tended to get hostile the second they noticed his eyes. Spencer completely lacked sclera. His golden iris encompassed the entire eye and his pupils were narrow slits. The odd time, people presumed they were contacts and the young feral escaped judgement. But those moments were rare. In a world of mutants, the different were never to be trusted at first glance.

“Well good evenin’ t’ y’,” Remy greeted the pretty receptionist, his megawatt smile all charm, demon eyes hidden behind a set of sunglasses. “We need a room f’r de night, _S’il vous plaît._ ”

The girl, who was named Leah according to her name tag, flushed several shades of red. She stumbled over words, giggling like a fool. Spencer rolled his eyes at the pitiful display. He never understood why anyone lost their dignity before a pretty face. Remy flirted a few more moments until he stepped away holding a set of keys. He tossed them in the air carelessly, that same flirtatious grin now aimed at his companion. “One room left, _petit_ , hope y’ don’t mind sharing.”

“Whatever,” Spencer grunted before snatching up his bag and stalking out.

Remy merely chuckled and followed. He knew a protective barrier when he saw one and he intended to break through, no matter what it took. Spencer waited just outside and when Remy passed by him, the young feral fell into step at his side.

They were put in a room further from the delinquent partiers. A spacious enough room, with two single beds, a mini fridge, kettle, bathroom and even a TV. It was done up in a mix of beige, gold and red and was certainly in much better condition than most motels Spencer had frequented. Depositing his coat in the only armchair the room had, the feral grabbed the bed nearest the door. Remy busied himself removing his own coat, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and sat just studying the youth feet from him.

Spencer was young from the looks of him, probably late teens, early twenties and slightly underweight. His clothes were well worn and he sat in a way that twisted at Remy’s heart. It was as if the boy was constantly waiting to be struck. Red eyes gliding over that lithe frame, the Cajun frowned when he noticed the elbow length gloves he was wearing. “Y’ cold, _cher_?”

Spencer jumped, lost in his own little world. Confused at first, he frowned at Remy and then noticed where he was looking. “Oh.” Flexing his covered fingers, Spencer waited a beat before pulling a glove off and slowly held out his hand.

Remy didn’t understand at first, his hands were lovely. With long, delicate fingers that a pianist would have envied and—The Cajun paused, eyes widening a fraction, he realised Spencer had no finger nails. No, instead, each finger was tipped in smooth skin and possessed a discreet slitted opening on each end. With a brief flex, retractable claws emerged. They looked denser than a house cat’s and were no doubt far more lethal. “ _Mon dieu_ ,” Remy breathed after a moment, before chuckling lightly. “Remind me never t’ get on y’r bad side, _chaton_.”

Scrunching his nose at the ‘kitten’ term, Spencer tugged his glove back on, hiding away his abnormal hands. “You’re certainly different. Most find my hands peculiar. At worst disgusting. Even mutants.”

“Even within de mutant community y’ still got y’r discrimination, _cher._ ” Remy kicked off his boots with a shrug. “Often had it wit’ m’ eyes. Some who be okay wit’ de powers, but not wit’ de differences de X gene can do on de outside of de body. Leave y’r coverings off, _petit_. Ain’t gotta hide from ol’ Remy.”

Fingers twisting, Spencer was reluctant and Remy didn’t push. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the younger, smiling to himself when the gloves were eventually removed and tossed onto the small bedside cabinet. It wasn’t much, but it was a start in the right direction. Remy intended to gently persuade Spencer to come back to New York with him. To the safe haven that was the Xavier institute, to something better.

Of course, he doubted Spencer was going to make it easy.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

The rain started harsh and unforgiving as Creed made his way through the forest. It didn’t phase him, too used to pushing through diabolical conditions, but what it did do was wash away Spencer’s scent. Stumbling through brambles non-stop for hours, pushing branches aside with enough force to snap them, he eventually came to a halt bellowing in rage. There was nothing left, not even a flash of Spencer’s aroma. It left Creed bumbling around in circles and furious he tore up the surrounding shrubbery, claws ripping into bark and startling nearby creatures until eventually the mutant calmed down.

Kneeling in the mud, the rain continuing to soak him, Creed panted. His chest ached from the roaring, breaths sharp at first, but it was lessening. Shuddering, he closed his eyes, remembering the warmth of his mate.

_...“What are you doing?” Spencer asked amused, sleepy feline eyes watching the bigger feral across from him._

_Creed chuckled, leaning close and stealing a kiss. “I’ve been caught, it would seem.” Nuzzling his tousled lover, he ran a claw over a bare, shapely hip, grinning when it drew out a splendid gasp from the smaller mutant. “I like this...You completely undone...Shining in the morning sunlight.”_

“ _Careful, Victor,” Spencer warned teasingly arching into his searching hand, “That almost sounded romantic. What would people think...?” The words ended on a breathy moan. As always Spencer gave and his mate took, both lost to the heat..._

The echo of that morning melted away. Creed looked about now at the misery around him and wondered, not for the first time, where it all went terribly wrong. Muttering curses, he gathered his belongings and trudged on. Spencer’s scent may have been lost, but there were other ways of finding him.

His little mate could not hide forever.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Spencer woke to the chatter of birds and a splash of sun creeping in through the window. He honestly didn’t remember falling asleep and was surprised by just how good he slept. No nightmares had haunted him, no old memories creeping out of the shadows.

Kicking away the covers, Spencer got himself horizontal. Remy wasn’t in his bed, but since his belongings were still in the corner the red eyed mutant clearly hadn’t gone far. Slipping on his battered converse, Spencer pulled his hair back in a messy bun. Needing to stretch his legs before he did anything else, he stepped out and immediately found Remy, the scene before him making him freeze.

Laughing the older mutant was crouched in the middle of the motel courtyard. Two small children ran about him, their parents stood smiling in amusement. Every now and again, Remy traded words with the couple and when he noticed Spencer, he got upright waving over with a warm smile. “Mornin’ _cher_! Come meet dese lovely _enfants_ an’ dis _belle homme_ an’ _femme_!” To Remy’s shock and some embarrassment, Spencer darted back into the motel, door slamming audibly in his wake. Mortified, the Cajun bowed his head in apology. “ _Désolé._ No idea what got into him!” Before he could be humiliated further and just plain annoyed by Spencer’s rudeness, Remy strode back to their room and was none to gentle on entry. “What de hell was dat?!”

“Nothing,” Spencer grumped, his back to the other mutant, muscles rigid.

“I don’t get y’,” Remy snapped suddenly. “Dis rage y’ carry around. Y’ let it leak out on others. What was so bad in y’r life dat y’ t’ink y’ got de right?”

The words were an echo in his head and Spencer didn’t turn. Couldn’t bring himself to face him with his pain so raw, right there for anyone to see. They say a ship can float, but let the water swamp it and it will sink. A person was the same and Spencer felt he was sinking. Closing his eyes to the fresh burst of hurt, the memories came back in a rush.

_....Pain, he was very much aware of pain when Victor burst through the main doors of a hospital, hollering for help. Clinging to the larger feral, Spencer looked about, taking in very little as raw agony made it difficult to see through the fog. Why was Victor carrying him? He didn’t understand. Was there an accident? But no...That didn’t make sense A fresh wave of pain and his cries had Victor bellowing again and finally a doctor filled Spencer’s blurry vision._

“ _...How far along?”_

“ _Thirty-four weeks,” Victor grunted. “Help him! Help our baby!”_

_A baby...His baby! A spark of clarity ripped through the fog, growing fast. On the doctor’s orders, Spencer was brought to an examination room. If any had noticed the pair were mutants, no one said. Then again, Doctors adhered to a code and part of that was never to play God._

“ _Lay him down here, Irene get in here!”_

_Another contraction ripped through Spencer and he arched with a sharp cry. He was barely aware of his clothing being pulled away, or an IV line being inserted for fluids. Monitors beeped and Victor was talking to him, but the younger feral barely heard. Why was there so much blood?! The sheets beneath him were stained red!_

“ _Shit, Janice...”_

“ _Yeah, Irene I see it...Spencer...Spencer look at me, okay?” Had Victor told her his name? He honestly couldn’t remember. With sheer force of will, Spencer made himself concentrate on her. Janice smiled. “That’s it, I need you to push, okay? A big push, Spencer.”_

_He didn’t want to. It was too soon, but his body had other ideas and with a sobbed scream, Spencer bore down. Victor was beside him, the medical staff encouraging him and between one breath and the next, their child slid from his body. A hush fell, the beeping of machines the only noise and Spencer forced himself to look up when that tell tale cry never came. Victor stood as still as death. The team of doctors had surrounded the tiny newborn and his heart stuttered. They were attempting resuscitation._

“ _Victor...”_

“ _I don’t know, little one...”_

_And then Janice stepped back uttering the words that Spencer never wanted to hear. “Time of death, eight forty-three pm.”_

_The roar in his ears was deafening and he couldn’t breathe. It felt an age had passed as they wrapped up that tiny body, his daughter they said, and carried her to him before placing her in his arms. She was perfect. Small, with caramel tresses and soft white skin. Pretty as a porcelain doll. Next to him, Victor couldn’t find the words. He reached out, but couldn’t bring himself to touch the infant and a moment later it didn’t matter. With a howl of the rawest agony ever heard, Spencer curled about that small form, weeping for the life that never was......_

“Get out...”

Remy blinked. At first he wasn’t sure Spencer had even spoke. “I’m sorry?”

“GET OUT!” Whirling around, feline eyes lit with fury, Spencer shoved Remy. “OUT! GET OUT!!”

Remy tried to protest, but the feral wasn’t listening and the door slammed in his face seconds later. Sliding to the floor, hand clutched about a silver locket at his throat, Spencer gave into the tears.


	3. On An Endowment Of Wings

_Two Weeks Previous:_

The beep of machines were a dim echo in the almost overly sterile room. Janice had ushered out the rest of her staff an hour ago and still covered in his own blood, her patient Spencer hummed a soft lullaby while rocking the tiny four pounds that was his daughter. Through his tears he smiled lovingly at her, mesmerised and honestly it broke her heart.

His partner stood away from them, arms crossed almost defiantly. If he felt anything for what had happened, Janice couldn’t tell and Spencer was too locked in on his baby to pay him any heed. Since Victor didn’t seem willing to intervene, that left it to Janice and truthfully, she’d rather face the reaper at the gates of hell than what she would have to do next. But needs must and the child needed to be taken to be looked after and to allow the grieving process to begin.

Spencer barely reacted to her presence when the doctor approached. Oh, his hulking companion growled somewhat of course, but Janice was undeterred. She had dealt with her fair share of dominant display and as always it was not something that unnerved her, not even from a mutant. Sitting down next to the young feral, Janice smiled tenderly. “Did you pick a name?”

“Hope,” Spencer responded barely above a whisper, “Her name is Hope.”

“That’s perfect for her. But, don’t you think it’s best to let Hope rest now?” Janice asked gently. “Let her sleep, Spencer...It’s time.”

Nodding minutely, Spencer bent his head and pressed one last shaky kiss to the baby’s milk white temple. Carefully, he moved his daughter into Janice’s arms and the moment he relinquished her, the pain ripped through him with the ferocity of a flash fire. Keening brokenly, Spencer rocked, arms wrapped about his waist, Victor looking away in an effort to hide his own pain.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

_Present Day:_

It was annoying to say the least. Skulking back into his motel room hours later as if he were a scolded child avoiding a spanking. But what had ever left Spencer so incensed, Remy figured it was best to let him simmer through it alone. The Cajun had found a nearby bar to spend most of the day and enjoy himself hustling pool with strangers, but even the fat wad of cash weighing in his pocket wasn’t enough to keep his mood cheery when he headed back. Expecting the room to be trashed from a feral let loose, Remy was mildly surprised to find everything intact and Spencer sat by the window. He appeared lost in thought, one foot idly swinging and fingers fiddling with the pretty silver chain hung about his throat. Obviously the feral knew Remy was there, but made no effort to suggest as such.

Biting back on his irritation and the snark trying to wiggle free, he set a bag on the table. “I got food, if y’r hungry.” His words were soft and placating.

Spencer closed his eyes and fought against the shame wriggling inside him. He hadn’t meant to loose his temper the way he had. Something in him simply snapped for the briefest of moments and in doing so he had obviously ruined whatever he had started with Remy. He was a bit inept at making friends that was for sure. “I’m sorry.” Spencer croaked, throat raw from hours of crying. “I never...I shouldn’t....” Words failing him, the feral shut his mouth. Often it was better to say nothing at all.

“It ain’t m’ business,” Remy said with a shrug, “don’t get me wrong. I didn’t appreciate havin’ m’ ass booted out, but I understand past trauma. Whatever it is, y’ don’t have t’ tell me.”

That was an offered cop out. Spencer knew one when he heard it and God knows he’d take it for the moment. Anything was better than playing Dr Phil with a mutant he barely knew. Wordlessly, Spencer made his way to the table. The smell of food was hard to ignore and skipping meals when he had no idea when he’d see his next one was just plain stupid. A tub of soup and sandwich along with a bottle of water sat inside the bag. Spencer wasn’t overly fond of tomato, but he ate it anyway. A full belly was better than an empty one.

Remy watched him from his bed as the boy ate. Admittedly he was trying to figure him out with little success. Just like Logan, it was hard to get a bead on his emotions using his empathy. It tended to be a feral thing. The lucky bastards often came with natural barriers against empaths and telepaths, making it harder for Remy to figure them out and blocking his natural charm and ability to calm them. As for today’s incident, even without all that, Remy could take a guess. “What was de _enfant’s_ name?” Honestly, he probably should have left it be after telling the feral he didn’t need to tell him anything, but patience tended to be something the Cajun lacked and ever observant type—or at the times he could be—he had easily noticed it was the children that made his new companion flee.

At the table, Spencer went rigid. His claws unsheathing and digging into the wood. “ _What?_ ” He hissed out, feline eyes snapping toward the taller youth. “You said it wasn’t your business!”

“True, but I never said I couldn’t guess.” Remy stood fluidly, one hand in his pocket, palming his cards just in case. He was drifting through dangerous waters and knew it, but he was determined to rip the band aid off of whatever Spencer was hiding. “A brother...sister per’aps? Or maybe a mutant y’ just became attached t’.”

“Stop it!” Surging up, Spencer’s chair fell backward with a loud thud. “Just stop it!”

“I know I’m right,” Remy argued. “What happened t’ de _petit_?”

“She died!” Spencer finally exploded, a fresh flood of tears frothing his already raw eyes. “My baby died!!”

The outburst sank into Remy as sharp as a knife. The boy was young and not once had it dawned on him the child was in fact Spencer’s! He watched in horror as Spencer sank to the floor, hand pressed into his belly while he sobbed helplessly. Remy truly saw the damage his little interrogation had done. Not just Spencer’s child...But one he had _carried_! He had no words, no magical cure. Remy had only himself to offer and mindful of the claws and teeth, he carefully approached. Spencer didn’t lash out and taking that as a good sign, the Cajun crouched gathering him into his arms. Weakly protesting, Spencer tried to push him away, but Remy wasn’t letting up and in the end he took what was given, clinging to the only real kindness he had known in years.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Stalking by chittering tourists, grunting in annoyance, Creed stopped outside a rundown building boarded up all over the windows and cursed irritably. He hated coming to this idiot, but aside from picking up snatches of Spencer’s scent here and there thus far, this was his only other option to find his mate and at least he wouldn’t expect a near blood oath in the process.

The door was open when the large feral tried the handle, something of which Creed found utterly stupid. If the mutant he was searching for wanted someone to walk in on him that was more threat than ally than he might as well have hung up a neon sign.

Then again, having the feral walk in unannounced was probably no better and the thought only made Creed grin.

Inside no light illuminated the front room, but Creed’s eyes had no problem seeing through the darkness. Dusty books sat on every shelf and cobwebs hung in every corner. Hearing sound coming from the basement below, Creed followed a sliver of light cutting a path across the dank wooden floor. He had a feeling his unsuspecting host had already sensed his arrival, but from what he could scent, he had yet to make a run for it.

The stairs down could only be classified as a death trap. From the audible creeks and groans, Creed was amazed the decrepit old wood could hold his weight. He took his time and had barely reached the bottom when he heard his name—or at least one of the names he went by.

“Sabretooth.”

He waited by a table in the corner of the basement. Tall and slender, bald head the colour of moonlight and spindly pale fingers tinkering with a clock of all things. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes were as milk white as the rest of him.

“Caliban,” Creed grunted in greeting.

“A pleasure as always to see you, Creed,” Caliban said as he set down his little project, tone dripping in sarcasm. “What do you want from Caliban this time? Caliban made it perfectly clear last time that Caliban owes no more to your...Comrade.”

“I ain’t here about Magneto,” Creed growled out, striding about the best he could in a narrow space. “Haven’t seen him in some time...I’m here about another mutant. One I need you to find.”

Agitation didn’t begin to cover what was plaguing the large feral. Caliban watched him pace back and forth, one eye arched in question, but it was clear his unexpected guest wasn’t about to give him any more. “Give me a name.” Caliban demanded icily in the end.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Spencer had no idea how long he sat curled up in Remy’s lap, but the Cajun didn’t protest and he was reluctant to move. As his heart rate settled, the miserable sobs lessening to the odd tear slipping free, something in Spencer desired to reach out. Later he’d blame it on his vulnerability, but right at that moment, he just wanted someone...anyone...to understand his pain. “I named her Hope.” He croaked out, voice ravished by his broken weeping. Remy went a little stiff, but aside from rubbing a hand gently along the young feral’s back, he didn’t push. “She was so...so small....I was six weeks early and....God...Hope barely weighed four pounds, but she was perfect...a...a blend of us both, with m-my curls and complexion and the shape of her f-father’s eyes. Hope was absolutely beautiful, but she never took that first breath.”

“Born sleepin’,” Remy said gently, his hold tightening a little more, heart twinging in sympathy.

Spencer nodded in response. “We had her cremated a-and scattered her ashes to the wind so s-she could fly free and as soon as I could...I ran...I couldn’t stay...Not after...I couldn’t take it...I can’t believe Hope is gone two weeks already.”

_Two weeks?!_ The poor boy in his arms had lost a baby only days ago? And here Remy had ripped the wound open so viciously! It had never been his intention to do so, but then as Logan often said, he was so quick to want to fix an issue, he often forgot why the barriers might be up in the first place. Guilt washed through him in a wave. He wanted to apologise, but didn’t even know where to begin. Instead, Remy tried for safer territory. “What ‘bout de father? Is de _homme_ not worried f’r y’?”

Spencer barked a laugh, muscles tensing just a little at the question. “Not in the slightest. I wouldn’t call our relationship healthy by any stretch of the imagination...I loved him...I think a piece of me still does, but after loosing Hope...It’s what truly destroyed us in the end.”

“ _Petit_ , better couples have ended dat way an’ been all de better f’r it.” The Cajun sighed, thinking back. “Seen a few bad relationships, me. Not’in but anger an’ guilt an’ a muddled head. Y’ soon find y’ make de worst of each other an’ need t’ know when t’ walk away.”

Wiggling free from Remy’s hold, Spencer got upright, stretching out his stiff limbs. Since sitting no longer seemed appealing, the young feral paced. “My problem is, what do I do now? In a moment of blind emotion I fled from what I knew with no real destination in mind and now I’m sort of stuck as to what to do next.” Why Spencer was telling him all of this, he had no idea. Mostly, he was tired of having no one to rely on outside of himself. Not even Victor had been worthy of such a position and now never would be.

“Y’ could always come t’ New York with me, _cher_ ,” Remy pointed out getting to his feet. “De Xavier institute takes in _hommes_ like us. It’ll be a safe place f’r y’ an’ y’ don’t need t’ worry ‘bout haters when y’ be around just other mutants. T’ink of it as a small bit of paradise until y’ decide where it is y’ want t’ go.”

It really did sound like the best of all his options. Spencer was no idiot. He knew at some point Creed would find him. Once the mutant claimed something, that was it. Even if that something was a living breathing person. It didn’t matter a wit to the brutish feral, but nor would it stop Spencer from trying to escape. Not after everything. Closing his eyes to it, willing away the pain, Spencer’s thoughts echoed of his worst moment. They wanted to swamp him, the misery, but he pushed it back facing Remy and asked, “When do we leave?”

  


  



	4. Cat and Mouse

They packed up and were on the road within the hour. The stormy weather had given way to rare glorious autumn sunshine and Spencer dozed against the passenger window, enjoying the warmth seeping in through the glass. To Remy it was amusing to see. Like a true cat sprawled out on a nice day and if the boy had noticed he was purring, Remy certainly wasn’t going to call him out on it. It was too damn adorable and it was just nice to see him so relaxed. Music played low on the CD player. A mix of _Fallout Boy, Linkin Park_ and _Adam Lambert_ a nice accompaniment. Remy sang along in a low whisper as he drove. The pair had another two day journey ahead of them. Honestly, the Cajun could do it in a day, but Spencer was insistent they stop and rest half way again and he begrudgingly agreed. Also secretly reminding himself that Spencer had recently given birth and no matter his regenerative capabilities the boy had to be still recovering.

If anything from the loss of the child.

Remy hadn’t probed much more on the subject of Hope. In all honesty, Spencer would be better talking to someone about the child. But this was something he couldn’t possibly understand and he was no Dr Phil even on a good day.

Also, certainly a new experience for him, Remy had never met a man with the extremely rare carrier gene and definitely not one who was also a mutant. To have the two in a combination was a million to one chance and no doubt it had gone down swimmingly too.

Now that he paid closer attention, aside from his feline attributes, Remy noted the characteristics only a male carrier possessed and thought briefly to himself—much to his chagrin—how the hell he hadn’t noticed before. He had no facial hair whatsoever, not even stubble and none had begun to grow since he had met the boy, as well as no hair anywhere else save his eyebrows, eyelashes and the hair atop of his head. Slenderly built, his hips were wider than that of a non carrying man and true to the rumours he was stunningly beautiful. Disgustingly he had sometimes heard the odd brute saying it was to attract men for their only obvious purpose— _Breeding_.

Remy wondered how often Spencer heard that tripe himself and upset roiled in his gut at the possibility it was idiots like this that led to Hope in the first place.

Was it truly a shock that since the carrier’s first became a thing, special laws needed to be put in place to protect them? It wasn’t even long before Remy had been born and his adoptive father Jean-Luc had told him all the grizzly details of what had been before they had what was it now.

Too bad the same logic couldn’t be applied to mutants.

Next to him, Spencer woke and shifted, stretching the best he could inside Remy’s car. Looking out, he noted the odd bit of traffic, eyes taking in the scenery. “We haven’t got far.” The feline commented.

“ _Quoi?_ Y’ can tell dat, just by lookin’ outside de window?” Remy asked amused. “Dey’re ain’t much around t’ identify, y’ know.”

“I can tell by the sun, Remy,” Spencer responded dryly. “By it’s position I know barely an hour has passed. So like I said, we haven’t got far.”

“Boy scout as a kid?” Remy asked curiously.

Spencer barked a laugh, “Not a chance. No, I read it in a book once.”

“Y’ read it?” Brow raised, Remy glanced at him. “Dat’s it. Y’ just read it in a book once an’ f’rever knew how t’ tell time dat way?”

A flush darkened Spencer’s cheeks. “I...Um...I have an eidetic memory, can read twenty thousand words per minute and I have an IQ of one-eight-seven.”

It was official. In the lottery of most gifted person, Spencer won hands down. Honestly! What were the odds that anyone would be _that_ unique?! “I bet dat made y’r childhood fun.”

“Oodles.” Spencer laughed somewhat bitterly. “As a mutant you know the human reaction to anything or anyone in any way different to them is not a pleasant one. I learnt very quickly, no one likes to be outsmarted by a child younger than them. Not even adults, gifted or not.”

“Y’ skipped a grade?”

“Try several.” Messing at his converse, Spencer did his best not to wallow in the misery of his schooling years. “I graduated high school when I was twelve and started at Caltech just shy of thirteen. When my powers manifested a year later, I left it all behind.”

Remy frowned. “Why? Y’ could’ve stayed on, finished out y’r education.”

“Let’s just say, I wasn’t given an option.” Spencer didn’t really want to elaborate. He didn’t want to talk about someone who was supposed to be his friend and how he threw him under the bus the first chance he got. “You could say it was one of the bigger reasons I don’t trust anyone.”

Remy nodded, “Been dere, _cher_. But I learned t’ know who will be with y’ t’rough it all. De ones dat matter. Got me a whole family made up of dem an’ none of dem blood. Blood don’t make family.”

No. It certainly didn’t. From birth boys learned if they possessed the carrier gene or not. Done alongside the PKU test, it only required a drop of blood and the secondary gender was added to the baby’s birth certificate, just like that. Spencer didn’t know how his father had reacted to the news upon his birth, but from his earliest memory he knew how the man looked at him. As if he were damaged, broken...Not the child he would have chosen. A fact Spencer only solidified the more he preferred books to things like baseball or any kind of sport for that matter. It wasn’t possible since he had lacked in any sort of athletic skill set.

It was somewhat ironic that with his feral mutation he finally could live up to his father’s expectations in the physical sense and yet fail him even more so by being a mutant in the first place.

Remy and Spencer fell into companionable silence. The hum of the engine and the music playing in the background filled the quiet in a nice way. Spencer found himself drifting again and content with it, he let the dreams take him away.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

_...Fourteen year old Spencer Reid jumped awake with a yelp when a pile of books thudded at his ear and almost toppled out of his seat. The furious hiss of the librarian left his cheeks red with humiliation and ignoring the heat singeing his face, the teenager threw a glare at the boy sniggering across from him. “You’re an ass, Jaime.”_

“ _That’s what you get for falling asleep, Spencer!” Jaime chided in a low whisper, still grinning like a loon. “Them all nighters finally catching up, huh?”_

_Spencer had been a student at Caltech for many months now, his high IQ jumping him quite a few rungs up the ladder. He loved the work, loved the challenge of it all and though the course load could be quite extreme it had never tired him like this before and yet in the last few days the exhaustion that had crept in was nothing short of terrifying. Naturally, Spencer’s oversized mind had already jumped to more lethal of culprits. He had predicted his imminent death several times now in fact and was so afraid that his anxious logic may have been correct, that he had avoided consulting a doctor to prove his theory wrong or right._

_Blissful ignorance tended to be the better choice in these cases._

“ _Something like that,” Spencer grouched._

_Despite his irritation, Jaime was a good friend. Like him, the fifteen year old youth had been blessed with a high IQ that had allowed him to bull dose on through to college a lot earlier in life. He was studying mathematics alongside the younger boy and the pair shared a dorm closest to the college where the Professors could keep an eye on them. At the weekends Spencer went home to Las Vegas to see his mother and make sure she was functioning okay. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough._

“ _You hear about Liv?” Jaime asked softly, blue eyes bright._

“ _Liv, as in Olivia Rogers?” Spencer questioned with a frown. “The blonde girl who sits away from everyone? What about her?”_

“ _She’s a mutant!”_

_Spencer stilled, blinking in surprise at the barely concealed horror in his friend’s voice. Caltech, just as much as anywhere else, was well known for their lack of tolerance towards mutants. Gradually things had started to improve, but certainly not fast enough. People still raced to report a mutant as if they were rabid. “What did they do?” Spencer had a feeling he already knew the answer._

“ _What do you think, dude? Cuffed her and dragged her butt on outta here.” Jaime sat back shaking his head. “Clary told me she set her room on fire and the whole dorm freaked. One of them filed a complaint and she was picked up first thing this morning. No doubt what’s best. She was dangerous.”_

_Of course they did. The most terrifying thing to probably happen to the girl and what do they do? Throw her to the wolves! Ignoring Jaime’s callous attitude toward it all, the younger boy tried to concentrate on his work, but it was no use. He was starting to feel sick and suddenly exhausted, Spencer excused himself. Gathering up his belongings he headed back to the dorm. Jaime promised to see him later and the boy thought about catching a nap while he had the room to himself. The halls were busy. He pushed his way through as politely as he could, the tiredness growing steadily worse. At his dorm room door, Spencer fumbled with his keys and once inside, he could only manage to kick off his shoes just before dropping onto the bed, out cold._

_Spencer had meant to sleep for a minute, but instead dead to the world the teenager slept for hours. The bone deep weariness working like a sedative. Morning came fast and with it, it brought a raging fever, that burned with such a ferocity it was as if his insides had been set aflame. His screams of agony woke Jaime. He had tried so hard not to scream, but the pain was just too much, forcing him to cry out for help. The tips of his fingers all burned and Spencer could smell blood._

“ _Spencer...Spencer!” Jaime called his name, springing across the room. “What the hell, dude?”_

_His friend was hot to the touch and any thoughts of helping him clogged in the teenagers throat when he saw the claws ripping free from blood soaked digits. Spencer’s next cry was a shrill inhuman yowl, jagged incisors lengthening before his eyes. In that moment, Jaime saw the terrible truth, Spencer was a mutant!_

“ _N-No,” Spencer whimpered reading the older boy’s expression and knowing now what was happening to him, “J-Jaime...Don’t...P-Please!”_

“ _You’re a monster,” Jaime snarled, face twisting with rage. Fists clenched, he bolted for the door, Spencer’s fearful shouts an echo in his ears..._

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Snapping awake, heart thundering in his chest, Spencer blinked in confusion. Memories of when he was fourteen still swam in his head and sucking down calming breaths, the feral battered back the panic rising within him, slamming the door firmly on the sea of painful images that haunted him even now. Typically speaking about his time in Caltech would have to bring one of his worst moments to life while he dreamed. His eidetic memory repeated every bit of it perfectly and even now Spencer could still hear his own pitiful screams. He had passed out, waking only when the authorities had burst into his room and then...well...a lot of it was a blur made up of fear and his newly acquired feline instincts taking over. When his more human mind took hold again, he was miles away from the college, with nothing to his name and no one to turn to.

His mother was made a ward of the state and she was placed in an institution better equipped to take care of her.

It wasn’t easy gathering that information about that after the whole mess and Spencer had hated to leave her there, but, he had nothing to offer anymore. At least this way, his mother was looked after and safe. Whether she knew why he never came back, Spencer didn’t know, and though mutant hatred was a lot less now, he still hadn’t braved going to see her. Especially with a certain feral on his ass.

Spencer was ashamed enough of himself, without his mother looking at him with disappointment too.

His father was enough.

Settled, the dream backing off at last, the feral sat up properly and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes. They were parked just outside a diner on the outskirts of town and Spencer could easily see Remy inside, laughing and chatting with the blushing cashier. It was insane how easy the man flirted. Limbs stiff, he climbed from the car, stretching his spine with several audible pops, a grunted curse escaping him. The warm air caressed him, it was all so peaceful, until a familiar aroma filled Spencer’s nose, freezing him in place. Swallowing, Spencer turned, colour draining from his face and one word ripped from his suddenly dry throat. “Victor...”

  


  


  


 

  



	5. Shards Of Brimstone And A Fiery Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!
> 
> This chapter contains a rape scene my lovelies!
> 
>  
> 
> xxx

_5 years ago:_

Spencer watched Creed pace back and forth in their newest little home and wondered what had the gruff man so stressed. The sixteen year old had been tagging along with the mutant for almost five months now and though he was well used to his abrasive personality, this was something else. Creed was muttering to himself and agitated. Every now and again his obsidian gaze slid toward Spencer and he wasn’t sure if he should be worried or not.

As if coming to a decision, Creed halted. He faced Spencer and stalked toward him and it was only then did the teenager noticed the swollen bulge in his jeans.

“V-Victor,” he questioned worriedly.

“Hush, little one,” Creed cooed gently. “I’ll make it good for you.”

Good for him? Spencer didn’t want it good, he didn’t want it at all! Scrambling backward on the bed, Spencer yelped when Creed caught him by his ankle and yanked him back. Before he could even begin to protest the bigger man had covered him with his larger body and kissed him with a shocking force. Spencer mewled and squirmed beneath him, desperately trying to get free.

“Mine, my mate, don’t wanna fight it anymore.” Creed crooned over every bit of flesh he exposed, stripping away Spencer’s night clothes.

Spencer kicked and twisted, begging pitifully. “Don’t, Victor! Please!”

Moving down the boy’s scrawny body, nipping and nuzzling at his soft creamy flesh, Creed purred over every inch of him. Spencer had stopped fighting, his weeping audible, but Creed refused to stop. Spencer would see and he would learn. Tongue tasting, lips taking, Creed could not wait any longer. In one swoop, he fell on Spencer’s cock, sucking hungrily.

Spencer arched with a strangled cry. No matter what he wanted mentally, he couldn’t stop his body from reacting. Disgust filled him when he hardened in Creed’s mouth, the unfamiliar sensation rippling through him. Without a pause, Creed stretched out, fumbling for something in the dresser and a moment later, Spencer felt a wet finger pushed inside him, sinking knuckle deep in one thrust. He cried out again, pleading once more and still Creed did not listen.

“Victor, s-stop, PLEASE!”

One digit became two, then three and kicking away his jeans, Creed settled between Spencer’s thighs and coated himself in lube. “It’ll feel so good baby, promise.”

The minute Spencer felt him push against him, the boy screamed and fought as viciously as he could. He sank his claws into Creed’s meaty thighs, bit him where could, but none of it deterred the large feral. If anything he was more aroused by it.

Sinking to the hilt, waiting till Spencer adjusted, Creed snapped his hips back and forth, revelling in the delicious heat surrounding him. It didn’t take long for Spencer’s shrieks to calm and instead pleasured gasps escaped the teen. Deeper and deeper Creed plunged, chasing the orgasm tingling in his cock. Reaching between their bodies, Creed wrapped his fingers about Spencer, delighting in the boy’s moan. “That’s it, let me hear you.”

No, _no_! Spencer didn’t want this! It didn’t matter that his skinny hips were rocking in his grip, or shivering with every brush against his prostrate, he didn’t want it! “P-Please!” He begged helplessly, tears falling from wide eyes. “Please, Victor!”

“I got you, I got you,” Creed panted in his ear. “Cum for me.”

The next cry was one of anguish when Spencer’s orgasm was ripped from his body almost violently. Slender fingers biting into the bedding, he felt Creed’s thrusts grow frantic, until the heat of his seed filled him. Careful not to crush his new lover, Creed collapsed next to him and wrapped a thickly muscled arm about his slender waist.

It wasn’t until he was sure the man was out cold before Spencer gave in and the sobs began anew.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

_Present day:_

Fear clogged his throat, burning like acid all the way down to his gut and with it Spencer shook so violently he thought his legs would crumple from beneath him. The memories of so long ago rippling across the surface of his mind making it all the worse. Gaze predatory, Creed never took his eyes off him, a deep growl rumbling deep into his broad chest. If Spencer so much as twitched, that sound only grew louder.

“You left,” the bigger feral eventually ground out.

“Are you crazy?” Spencer gasped, some bravado wiggling through the fear. “Of course I left! Did you honestly think I would stay after what happened? Hope is dead!”

“She was my daughter too!” Creed exploded taking an aggressive step forward. “Stop acting like you were the only one who suffered.”

“Suffered?” Spencer spluttered, a rage so fierce roiling in his gut. “You suffered?! It was _your_ fault!”

Oh, how he wished he could block it out. Make it disappear into the deep dark recesses of his mind where it could never hurt him again, but every time he closed his eyes it waited for him. Just as much as his twisted love for the brute.

... _“You are not leaving!” Creed snapped for the tenth time, dark eyes wild and heart a little panicked as he reached out to stop Spencer atop of the stairs. “I won’t let you!”_

_Spencer twisted in his grip, their unborn child kicking within him, eyes bright with hurt, “Let me go, Victor! I won’t stay here! You lied to me! You told me the Morlock Massacre had nothing to do with you!”_

“ _My business is my own!” Creed hissed out angrily._

“ _You are responsible for those deaths!” Spencer choked out. “Their blood is on your hands! I won’t raise our baby with you knowing that. I should have left long before now.”_

_The resignation in his mate’s voice ripped at his insides. The boy truly meant what he said and with it a fury so thick engulfed the large feral. “You’re mine!” He snarled. “And if I can’t have you....No one can.”_

_Spencer had been long used to Victor and his viciousness. His determination to have whatever he wanted. He grew to hate and love him in equal measures, knowing full well none of it was in any way healthy. But in that moment, true terror enveloped him a split second before Victor gave him a hard shove and sent him careening violently down the stairs._

_The pain registered dully and then his world receded..._

“You pushed me down those wretched stairs,” Spencer spat out. “Forgetting in your bullheadedness I’m just as hard to kill as you are. But not our daughter...internal bleeding, Victor...She had internal bleeding and a fractured skull, you did that!”

“I never meant to!” Creed raged back, desperate just to hold him. “I was maddened by you wanting to leave me. You belong with me. We...We can try again.”

Spencer jerked back as if he had been slapped. “ _What?!_ ”

“Your heat is not far off. I can smell it. We’ll try again and I’ll pup you good,” Creed promised. “Just come home.”

That was it? As if Hope had meant nothing at all? Any child would replace her?! A mix of ice and fire warred within the younger feral. The sheer lack of understanding from the bigger mutant was so unbelievable and within him something snapped. With a yowl as loud and as vicious as a leopard, Spencer sprang at Creed, claws unsheathed and wanting to tear into him, intent on ripping out his black and withered heart.

Inside the diner, Remy was oblivious to the fight going on outside. Stood by the counter, after sending the shy Barista scurrying off to fill his order all blushes, he was dreaming of a large takeaway cup of coffee and a doughnut the size of his damn head! They had been driving for hours, the sun set a while now and starving didn’t quite begin to explain the level of his hunger. Add the fact he had needed a smoke to go along with it and without a sudden pit stop he was liable to take a bite out of someone.

In truth, part of his bad mood was down to a rather interesting and yet terrifying realisation.

He was attracted to _Spencer!_

Remy was a known flirt. Hell, he took pride in that fact, but this wasn’t that. Genuine feelings had been sparking off ever since the conversation the evening before and that in itself was all kinds of messed up, considering what the pair had been talking about. For hours now, he had been thinking about his new companion, from his messy honey coloured hair, to the stunning smile he had so far only caught a glimpse of and all of it made his insides quiver and his mouth dry up with want.

And not for the first time he felt just a hint of self loathing.

He wasn’t single! His loving partner waited for him back at the mansion. His wonderful, gruff and hard headed feral who he had been with for two years now and never once considered straying from. Yet, here was another feral tugging at something in him and Remy for once was at a loss as what to do about it.

He loved Logan with all his heart, but a part of him saw a piece of that same heart needing Spencer too.

Dragging a hand through his russet hair out of pure frustration, Remy forcefully restrained himself from cursing. No sense in having prim little of ladies glaring at him all affronted. Opting just not to dwell on it, he grabbed his order when the girl returned, gave her a generous tip and moved around the late diner goers out into the parking lot right into absolute chaos.

Spencer yowled in pained fury when he hit the black top with a thud that rattled his bones. Shoulder healing even as it bled from Creed’s wicked claws, he hissed, elongated teeth menacing. He knew people were watching, heard the snaps of phones as they took pictures and yet he didn’t give a damn! “Bastard!” The boy howled going in for another attack.

Bleeding and healing just as much and as fast as the smaller feral, Creed hissed and cursed when Spencer impacted with him, sending them both crashing to the ground. Rolling him to his back, he pinned him and snarled. “Stop!”

“Get off me!” Spencer howled, bucking against him.

“Y’ heard de _homme._ Get off.” Two gazes snapped toward the mutant striding toward them. Red eyes heated, a deck of cards fluttered between Remy’s hands. “Ol’ toothie, never t’ought t’ run into y’ here.”

This was who Spencer was with?! Now that he concentrated he could smell the bastard all over him and it made his blood boil. “Stay out of this you swamp rat!” Creed snapped, black eyes murderous. “I’m here for my mate!”

 _Mate?!_ Of all the words to come out of his mouth, that was not what he had expected. Which made Creed Hope’s _father!_ It also made him the brute Spencer was running from and that was enough to get him passed his shock. “Looks like he ain’t interested t’ me, so let him go.”

Using Remy’s distraction to his advantage, Spencer wiggled, planted his feet against a broad chest and kicked. Creed was sent sprawling, spitting in fury and Spencer righted himself, claws out on full display. With another furious roar, Creed lunged only to be blasted backward by a flying pink projectile.

Hitting the ground with enough force to break bones, Creed quickly got his ass back upright and turned his attentions on the obstacle now blocking his path. “You’re pissing me off, Gambit!”

“I tend t’ have dat affect on people!” Remy snipped back, his smile dangerous. “I’m warning y’ Sabretooth, back off. Or Remy gonna send y’r sorry ass packin’ in a match box!”

Hearing the call of sirens in the distance, Creed froze. One of this idiot homo-sapiens had called the damn authorities! Caught between fighting for his mate, or being handed over to the MRD, Creed jabbed a finger in Spencer’s direction. “I’ll be back for you, mate of mine. There is nowhere you can go, where I can’t find you!”

Spencer gave no response, watching Creed bolt and knowing it wouldn’t be the last they saw each other.

With at least a couple minutes head start, Remy grabbed the feral and didn’t let go until they were buckled in and hauling ass away from the diner. Only when he knew they weren’t be pursued did he dare slow down.

“Sabretooth?” He eventually croaked out, not as articulate sounding as he could have been. “Y’r lover is _Sabretooth_?!”

“ _Was_!” Spencer corrected irritably. “I figured you had crossed paths, hence why I never mentioned his name. I didn’t particularly want a lecture.”

“Easy dere, _cher_. Not judging y’.” Remy promised him reassuringly. “Remy’s love life was never angelic. Be a hypocrite if I said anyt’in.”

That surprised Spencer and gratefulness filled him. Though he doubted Remy would have tossed him to the side of the road, he had been unwilling to test the reach of his generosity. Something in him eased and in that moment he fully trusted the Cajun by his side.

Things were looking up.

 

 


	6. No Place Like Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay my flowers, we're in the middle of a small heatwave, which leaves the kiddos a pair of antichrists! As well as that my cousin is getting married in 5 weeks and I'm a bridesmaid, so stressed is not even gonna cover it, especially when the dressmaker screwed up our dress sizes and we now have just barely over a month to rectify the problem, while fighting the bitch to get our cash back.  
> Apparently we gave the wrong sizes...uh...no love, you mixed up EU and American sizes, so the dang dress feels like shrink wrap...when they started suggesting I put up two dress sizes, well, hair nearly flew! X_X  
> Add in usual chores, responsibilities and I need a blasted clone!  
> In short, updates are slow, so SORRRRRRRRY! And enjoy this chapter xxxx

Waking to the soft sounds of the morning, Logan rolled over and grumbled into his pillow, wishing death on the noisy birds chirping at his window. Body creaking, the heavy sleep fading gradually, the feral rolled from his bed with his usual irritated cursing and a near addictive want for coffee.

Looking back at the bed, missing the warm body that he tended to wake up to, Logan swore colourfully. He hadn’t heard from Remy in almost three days and it was beginning to get to him. Sure, his Cajun was well able to keep himself out of harm’s way, but a phone call stating he was still in one piece would have been just as nice.

Dragging on a pair of jeans, Logan grabbed a t-shirt at random and headed out of the room barefoot. It was early on a Saturday morning, so the mansion was quiet, the students and teachers taking the chance to lie in. He could hear the odd youngster moving around and knew just by her routine, Ororo would already be in her greenhouse watering the plants.

In the kitchen, Logan found Scott, Hank and Jean already starting on breakfast for everyone. It wasn’t his turn, but after calling out a quick good morning, the feral began rooting out ingredients to get some pancakes started.

“You’re up early,” Jean commented cheerfully, reaching passed him to grab something from the spice rack.

“Couldn’t sleep, Red,” Logan grunted in reply. “Not with a bunch of birds squawking at my window.”

His grumbled words were met with laughter. Logan tended to be a light sleeper, unless his Cajun was home, and so the slightest thing tended to pull him from slumber. It was a fact that was a source of constant amusement about the manor. Especially when some of the students got a kick out of pranking him awake on occasion. Remy got a laugh out of it and though the Cajun denied it, Logan was convinced he was involved in most of the antics.

“Any sign of Remy getting back?” Scott asked, tossing eggs onto a hot skillet with practised ease.

“Not yet.” Logan replied with a frown. “It was only a drop off mission and he’d usually be back by now...” And though he refused to say it out loud, he was worried.

“I wouldn’t fret over our young Cajun friend,” Hank said pleasantly as he began setting the large table, “Remy is well equipped at handling himself.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second, Blue,” Logan responded with his usual gruffness. “But a call wouldn’t kill him and he’s not answering any of mine.”

“Give it one more day,” Scott suggested, “and if there’s still no sign, we’ll go looking for him.”

Gratitude filled the feral. He and Scott may not have always seen eye to eye, but the man was there for him and everyone else in a heartbeat. “Appreciate it, Slim.”

The small group continued preparing breakfast, the radio buzzing in the background. After about an hour some of the older students began to trickle in. Some meandering sleepily toward the coffee, while others flopped at the table looking barely conscious. Unsympathetic to their plight, Scott got them off their butts and directed them to different jobs. After all, they had an entire mansion to feed and more hands made the job easier and go faster. Their bratty complaints quickly dissolved into happy chatter while they worked.

When a sharp sound and the smell of brimstone filled the air, Logan glanced briefly at Kurt. The blue skinned mutant stretching his long limbs with a toothy yawn. “Morning everyone!” The young man greeted jovially before grabbing a mug for coffee. “Just saw your boy pulling up, Logan.”

“ _What_?!” Tossing the spatula he was holding toward a chortling Hank, Logan bolted for the door, ignoring the kissing noises and teasing of his students in favour of his goal.

He had a Cajun to chew out!

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sure he had heard rumours of the famous Xavier institute, but seeing it in person was something else entirely. The grounds spanned for a couple of miles in each direction and the mansion itself appeared endless in size. There were courts for tennis, basketball and even a field set up for baseball. By the lake, Spencer could see a lovely little boat house and they were surrounded by a protective barrier of trees, all of various types.

It felt so safe and it was wonderful.

“Welcome!” Remy said with a grin, pulling up just outside a set of stone steps that lead to a large set of oak doors. “So, _cher_ , what do y’ t’ink?”

“It’s amazing,” Spencer breathed. “How many students do you have here?”  
  
“At present, ‘bout two hundred, along wit’ ‘bout twenty staff members. De number changes a lot, not everyone stays.” Remy explained.

With a nod, Spencer climbed from Remy’s car, grabbing his bag as he went. His feline eyes drank in everything. Through large windows on the second floor he noticed bookshelves and itched to go look. Of course a school like this would have a library. He couldn’t wait to explore it in full!

“REMY ETIENNE LEBEAU!”

Both Remy and Spencer jumped at the bellow that cut across the grounds and Spencer was stunned to see it came from a short and stocky man stood upon the steps. Dark blue eyes livid, he stalked toward them, gaze firmly locked on Remy.

“Uh, hey dere Logan.” Remy tried with a wary smile. “Y’ lookin’ a bit pissed dere, _cher_.”

“A bit pissed?!” Logan demanded incredulously. “Are ya serious?! What...Your phone was broken?!”

Remy backed away from his angry lover, hands up in placating defence, “ _Non_. Just been a tad busy is all. Didn’t mean t’ worry y’ Wolvie. Remy just got side tracked helpin’ anotha mutant.”

“Ya complete ass!” Logan snapped and hand snatching forward he yanked the Cajun forward finally, grabbed a fistful of auburn hair and dragged him down into a searing kiss.

Remy sagged with a moan. He had missed this. Missed his lover, his scent, his warmth. Pulling back, with a nip to his lower lip that translated to so many promises, Remy grinned devilishly. “Am I f’rgiven?”

“Hmm, for now, ya brat.” Eyes drawn to another, as well as his nose, Logan let out a warning growl. “Who’s the pup and why does he reek of Sabretooth?!”

Backing away at the aggressive greeting, Spencer couldn’t help but bare his teeth a little, a snarl rumbling in his own chest right back at him. If the feral called Logan attacked, he wouldn’t find him an easy target. He was so fed up of dominant ferals snapping at him! It also stung just a little, knowing that Remy already had someone, when these odd feelings were wiggling about inside him.

“Knock it off, Logan,” Remy snapped out firmly. “Dis be Spencer. De mutant I was helpin’!”

“I gathered, Gumbo,” Logan growled back in response, “but why does he smell like that overgrown furball?!”

“Never y’ mind, y’ grumpy ass!”

“Remy!”

“Oh for heaven sake!” Spencer eventually spat out in annoyance drawing both of their attention. “It’s fine, Remy. I don’t care if he knows. In short, Victor is my ex lover...emphasis on the _ex_! After certain events I left him and I needed somewhere safe to go. Remy said I could come here....So if you still wish to attempt gutting me, go ahead. Just as long as you know, I will take a piece of _you_ with me.”

Both Remy and Logan gaped a minute before finally the feral let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, I like him. Alright, spitfire, but I gotta ask. I protect my own.”

“Of course.” That was something Spencer could understand. After years of keeping his mother away from harm, he could respect anyone else trying to do the same.

With his lover placated, his curiosity temporarily smothered, Remy led Spencer inside. Some passing students called out in greeting, the others gawked at the newcomer. Responding to the former and ignoring the latter, Remy nudged Spencer forward and followed beside him, Logan bringing up the rear.

Spencer was transfixed by all around him. On the walls he noted paintings that were centuries old and knew the statues had to be the same and the rug beneath his feet spoke of wealth and history. Everywhere he looked, there seemed to be a piece of time gone by and he was eager to know the story within the mansion’s walls.

Remy watched him from the corner of his eyes highly amused. A learned type, he had had a feeling Spencer would love the institute. It would certainly keep his mind off other things and act as a protective barrier until they figured out their next move. Remy was under no illusions that Creed would simply give up. Once that nasty bastard claimed anyone or anything he never let go. Something told him that this time would be no different.

Stopping outside a set of doors, Remy wasn’t the least bit surprised when a warm, ‘ _Enter,’_ greeted them without him even knocking. Remy opened the door, ushering Spencer inside, Logan right behind them both.

Spencer got his first look at Professor Charles Xavier. He saw an imposing, yet gentlemanly figure sat before a desk. Warm brown eyes lifted up from a mess of papers to look him over and his scent was an inviting one. Spencer knew he wasn’t a mutant to take lightly, but there was certainly nothing threatening about him.

“Welcome,” Xavier greeted pleasantly. “You must be Spencer Reid.”

It wasn’t a question and though it was irksome to know the telepath had obviously grazed his thoughts, Spencer merely nodded, “That’s right. Remy said...he said I would find sanctuary here.”

“And he was right,” Xavier promised him. “My school is a place for mutants to find themselves away from the tyranny and misunderstanding of others. Some stay for a time, others become a permanent part of our home here.”

“And if I was running from something?” Spencer asked softly.

Like before Xavier glanced over his thoughts and one name was hard to miss. Sitting back, he steepled his fingers, eyes bright with curiosity. “Sabretooth?”

Spencer hissed a little, unable to stop himself, “Stay out of my head!”

“Apologies,” Xavier said immediately. “I am not probing, but surface thoughts are hard to block out by times. Know this, Spencer, we will protect you. You are welcome here, for however long you wish to stay.”

The relief that swamped Spencer was almost enough to buckle him. A part of him had been honestly terrified Xavier would turn him away. He knew in a way the cruelty of the world had made him cynical, but then, genuine people were often hard to come by and then there were the diamonds in the rough.

“Thank you.”

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Creed stood on a hill not far from the Xavier institute and bit back the aggressive growl clawing its way up his throat. This was where his mate went? He was loathe to admit it, but it might as well have been Fort Knox! Xavier had enough high tech security to make even NASA jealous! Which made simply walking past the front door an impossible dream.

Wind whipping through his blonde hair, the gruff feral tried to figure out a coarse of action. To his fury only one solution came to mind. He would have to wait until Spencer was away from the safety of the mansion before he could get him back.

“Soon, my sweet pet,” Creed rumbled to himself. “Soon, you’ll come home.”

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Spencer blinked and gaped. This was his room?! Wall to wall it could possibly fit the whole downstairs of his childhood home! A large bed sat at it’s centre, decorated with plush bed covers and a set of patio doors opened out into a spacious balcony. To his left was a walk-in closet, as well as an ensuite. There was a TV and a stereo and every inch of the place screamed wealth. A little dumb founded, Spencer dropped his bag with a thud and turned to Remy.

“I’m sleeping in here? Seriously?!”

Chuckling at the boy’s astonished expression, Remy nodded, “ _Oui_ , Penny. Dis be y’r room. We were hardly stickin’ y’ in de shed.”

Ignoring the nickname, Spencer waved a hand at his surroundings. “Well, no, but this is a bit much, isn’t it?”

Expression softening, understanding dawning, Remy shook his head. “ _Non_. Y’ just...Y’r not used t’ havin’ much are y’?”

“I suppose not,” Spencer sighed. “I’ve spent the last few years either on the streets, or living out of abandoned buildings. My family before that...well...we were never rich, but I never wanted for anything. Now, I guess, I don’t know what to do with ordinary comforts when they’re offered. Not even the ones I’m entitled to.”

“Not anymore, Penny,” Remy said with a grin. “Not anymore.”

  



	7. Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so...so...SOOOOO Sorry! These last few weeks have been insane! But here I am, finally getting into updates!  
> Apologies on delays my dears.  
> Enjoy xxxx

Spencer was reluctant, but Remy’s determination overruled him. He was going to the evening meal to meet everyone and that was final! In a large dining room the whole of the institute appeared to be gathered. The students sat at tables, chatting and enjoying themselves with a carefree air that only children could manage. The school staff and remaining adults sat at the top table, the atmosphere somewhat calmer about them. Remy guided him to a seat and dropped down next to him, Logan on his other side. He proceeded to introduce Spencer to everyone. Only the odd name stuck since Remy did it in haste, but no matter, Spencer had plenty of time to learn them.

“Where are you from, Spencer?” The man named Scott asked curiously.

“Las Vegas,” Spencer responded shyly. “I haven’t been back in years of course. Spent the last while sort of jumping from place to place.”

“That can happen when you’re a mutant,” Scott said with sympathy, “But you won’t have that problem here.”

Spencer hoped deeply that were the case. Already he felt at home. The institute was welcoming and it was a rare pleasure to be among people who didn’t cringe at the sight of you. Or pretend to be kind, while equally sneering. The whole thing was refreshing. The conversation varied between topics. Some wondered about his mutation and the manifestation of it, while others waded through safer waters and asked simple things, like, was he a reader or did he ever get banned from a casino. The latter Remy asked, making Spencer laugh, since he was banned from four. The subject of his family cropped up, but Remy swiftly nipped it in the bud, declaring such nosiness was rude.

Unbeknownst to him, Spencer was watched. Logan’s dark blue eyes had studied him carefully the entire meal, while the feral breathed in his scent. No matter how careful Remy was, Logan could easily see his lover’s interest and truthfully, he could see why.

Spencer’s aroma was delicious and appealed to Logan’s feral half in a way no one else had.

He adored Remy, that was not in question, but there was a part of him that needed filling and Logan had a feeling, Spencer may be just what they needed. How to approach him was the question, but the older feral had some ideas. Several of which involved him going full wolverine and staking a claim. The more rational part of Logan hastily shoved that down. He wasn’t a cave man after all.

“.. _._ _Logan!_ ”

Jerked from his thoughts, Logan’s navy blues slid toward an irate Remy. He grunted, “Don’t look so pissed, Gumbo. Just lost in thought.”

Remy rolled his eyes, “Well yank y’r head from y’r ass, Wolvie! Was askin’ if y’r okay? Y’ lookin’ a bit...um...flushed.”

In other words, Remy had caught a sense of his arousal. The Cajun couldn’t feel much from Logan, but enough to get an idea of what he was feeling and since Logan’s eyes weren’t exactly on his lover, well, no doubt he was confused. Leaning toward him, Logan grinned. “I can smell your want for him, Gumbo.”

Eyes widening, Remy swallowed heavily. “I...Logan...”

“Don’t apologise, darling,” Logan growled out. “I want him too.”

Jaw dropping, Remy gaped. For a second he was sure he had heard his lover wrong, but no...it was there, written all over Logan’s face, a hint of yellow sneaking through the dark blue of the feral’s eyes. A thrill ran through Remy at the very thoughts of being wrapped up in the pair of them. Logan rumbled a low growl in response to the sudden scent of arousal wafting from his mate. He fully intended to have both in his bed and once he did, neither would be let go.

Fiddling with the silver chain about his neck, Spencer hadn’t noticed the quiet exchange between Remy and Logan. Happily absorbed in a discussion with Scott, he never saw Jean, Scott’s wife, reaching out to the trinket about his throat, but everyone witnessed what happened next.

“Hey!” Spencer snapped, leaping back from the table, a snarl lacing his words.

The dining room went silent, while Jean stumbled back, holding her hands up, green eyes slightly wide. “I just wanted to see.”

“Hey, yourself!” Scott barked out, coming in between them. “What’s your problem? Jean only wanted a look!”

Hand clutching the pedant protectively, Spencer backed away. “There is such a thing as asking,” he defended, eyes darting about. “Anything else is arrogant entitlement.”

Scott advanced with a rare flash of temper, Remy and Logan both leaping to their feet, but the Professor beat them to it.

“Enough!” Xavier barked. “Scott, Jean should have asked...Spencer, I apologise.”

Shaking his head, Spencer darted from the room. Hot tears stung his eyes, a mix of temper and humiliation and his hasty footsteps didn’t stop until he reached the room and shut himself inside. Furious with himself, the scrawny feral threw himself onto the bed and cursed colourfully. Anything else, Jean could have reached for anything else and he wouldn’t have so much as flinched. But the chain? It was his most valued piece of property.

Reaching beneath the collar of his t-shirt, Spencer pulled the locket free. His thumb grazed over the simple carving in Japanese. It translated to Hope and inside, he plucked free all he had left of his daughter. A soft coil of her hair and a photo of her permanently sleeping face.

With a sob, Spencer curled about his trinket and just let the pain consume him.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

The minute Spencer fled, Remy whirled. “Are y’ kiddin’ me Jeannie?!” He hissed out, ignoring Xavier’s previous command, his anger getting the best of him. “What de hell were doin’?!”

“I meant no harm!” Jean protested irritably.

“That’s not an excuse, Red,” Logan bit out angrily. “Kid has had it rough and I bet Chuck told you as such and still you invaded his space. What the hell were you thinkin’?!”

“F’rget it, Wolvie...No point in upsetting de _enfants_ or fightin’ wit’ de femme,” Remy interrupted noting the gawking students. “Let’s go see if he’s okay, _oui_?”

Logan wanted to ignore Remy and his sensibility, but he yanked his temper back. He wasn’t about to loose his cool in front of a bunch of kids. Not when the biggest lesson they tried to teach them was self restraint.

With a last glare tossed at Jean, he followed Remy out.

Spencer heard the knock on his door and was tempted to ignore it, but the scent he had picked up on was Remy’s and though he could also pick up Logan’s, something in him craved the bigger feral as much as the Cajun he had come to care for. It crossed his mind he had a want for the man as well and wouldn’t that just add to his misery? Pining after a couple in love with each other, but never him.

Getting up, he tucked away the silver locket and opened the door. He couldn’t hide his tears, there was no point. His scent and swollen eyes would have given it away to either of the men in front of him. “Yes?” Spencer winced at the croaked sound of his voice. As if he couldn’t feel any more pathetic.

“Oh, _cher_ ,” Remy said, voice soft sympathy. He reached out and gathered him close. “I got y’.”

Spencer hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t, but it happened none the less. Curled up in Remy’s arms, the tears started anew. He clung to the taller youth, weeping helplessly, while Logan closed the door and went to draw the curtains shut. Remy rubbed his back, speaking softly in French until Spencer finally calmed down and drew away from him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, utterly mortified.

“Don’t apologise, pup,” Logan told him gruffly. “We’re all allowed our breakdowns.”

Pacing anxiously, Spencer pulled at the pendant about his neck. It was something he tended to do to calm himself and often it worked, but not always. He wanted someone to know, to understand and coming to a hasty decision, he removed the chain and held it out toward Remy.

Blinking, Remy took it, a little confused. He knew enough Japanese to recognise the symbol carved into the piece and heart beating fast, he gently opened the locket and everything in him softened to mush. “Ah, Penny...Dis be y’r _enfant_?”

Spencer nodded. He glanced at Logan and taking the locket back, he held it out to the feral. “I had a daughter with Creed. She came into this world stillborn and this is all I have left of her.”

Logan studied the hair and photo, heart twisting in response to the boy’s loss. But still, he had to ask. “You lost your kid and left Creed because, of what, guilt?”

“I left because the night I lost her, that bastard had pushed me down the stairs causing me to miscarry!” Spencer ground out.

“ _Quoi_?!” Remy spluttered. “He killed Hope? Dat connard put his hands on y’ an’ murdered a baby in de process?!”

Spencer sighed, suddenly exhausted. “Victor has done so much worse to others over the years, left permanent scars on me too and despite it all, I loved him. It shouldn’t have taken my baby’s death to see sense.”

“Getting away from abuse ain’t so easy, pup,” Logan told him gently. “Abusers break you down first. Make you dependent, till you know nothing else and then the pain they cause seems almost normal.”

This time when Spencer’s tears fell, it was Logan who gathered him close. Holding him fiercely through the storm of his emotions. His soft words and gentle touch taking away some of the hurt, while Remy watched over them both.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Music blaring loudly, a petite mutant with wild pink hair bopped along to the tune in a long abandoned warehouse, fingers snapping over several keyboards, her pale pink eyes watching several monitors as she worked. Her name was Alexandra, or as she was known in other circles, Techno, since she had the ability to control and manipulate technology and the electricity within it. Others liked to called her the cyber guru, but honestly, she preferred just to be called Lexi.

As always, her day was abuzz with several different hacking jobs, ranging from hiding details about a mutant child as well as searching for the blueprints to a known MRD facility. Every time she hit the jackpot, she gave a wiggle of her hips, hollering BOOYAH! All the while, her eyes were on her security cam and when a familiar face filled her screen, Lexi blinked in shock. Hitting the intercom she called out.

“Door’s open, babe.”

A few moments later, Creed’s imposing form filled the doorway of her sanctuary, dark eyes narrowed and an irritated snarl curling his lip. “You’ll go blind in here.”

“Nah,” Lexi replied cheerfully, spinning to face him. “I’m good, sweet cheeks. Not every day I get one of the big bad asses at my door. What do you want? Can’t say I won’t tell you to go screw yourself of course.”

Eyes narrowing, Creed snarled louder, “You think it wise to refuse me?”

Laughing, Lexi sat back, steepling her ring decorated fingers, totally relaxed.“Oh, baby cakes...You think I’dve let you in here if I was unprotected?” For emphasis, her eyes took on an eerie glow and electricity sparked to life about all the monitors, charging the air. “You’re inside a vortex of power. If I want to, I can turn the volts up high and fry your ass before you ever reach me and I’ll be long gone before those famous healing powers of yours do shit about it. So like I said, ask and we’ll see if I can help you. If not, you’ll go on your merry little way.

Creed was no idiot. He could all but smell the energy rippling in the room and knew she was telling the truth by her scent. “Fine.” He bit out. “I only need one thing...I need you to find someone for me.”

“That all? Sure thing kitty cat...Got a name?”

Creed’s sneer was deadly, “Diana...Her name is Diana Reid.”

  



	8. Heat

_//Waking with a start, Spencer gasped for breath, his overheated skin feeling like someone had doused him in lighter fluid and lit a match. Heart pounding, he sat up, groaning when Creed’s heavy arm shifted, burning a trail along his skin. His sound of distress was enough to wake the larger feral._

“ _Baby?” He queried sleepily. “W-What is it?”_

“ _T-Too hot!” Spencer whimpered._

_Well that sounded odd. It wasn’t as if Spencer got sick. With his regenerative powers it just wasn’t a thing. Sitting up, Creed pressed a hand to his lover’s temple and when his scent reached him through the slumber fog, it hit him like a punch. Fertile...His lover was finally fertile! Spencer had long ago mentioned he was a carrier, but this was the first time Creed had ever smelt such virility off him. His instincts cried heat...his mate was in heat! And he planned to take full advantage._

_Shifting, large body blanketing the smaller, Creed bent his head and kissed Spencer hungrily. Body going on sensation, the younger feral arched into him with a hungry mewl caught in his throat. His sudden desire was delicious. Most often, there was still a slight reluctance to him, but not tonight. Creed could see and smell that he was starved for it._

_Reaching between their naked bodies, he was surprised to find Spencer already loose and wet. Apparently his body was preparing him naturally and wasn’t that just perfect? Grinning, Creed kissed Spencer again, swallowing his desperate cries and with a movement of his hips, he plunged in to his pliant body in one easy thrust._

_Spencer threw his head back with a pleasured cry. Never had he been so wanton, so desperate. A slave to his own needs, he wrapped his legs about Creed’s waist, nonsense words falling from his lips with each ploughing thrust his lover gave._

_Hot._

_Heat._

_Breed!_

_Creed knew without a doubt, by morning, he would have bred his mate and throwing his head back he roared along with his first of many climaxes._

_The next few hours were going to be fun!//_

* * *

 

Spencer woke with a jolt, skin damp and heart thundering in his chest, the old memory muddling. Thoughts foggy, he startled at the feel of a body either side of him, but he was swift to remember it was Logan and Remy and that the three had settled into his bed to watch a movie. Clearly, they had fallen asleep. Carefully shifting, trying not to wake the other two, he stretched his knotted limbs. He considered drifting down to the kitchen for some food and that’s when the first familiar wave of heat left him floored.

Gasping for breath, Spencer squirmed, waking his companions, a pitiful moan crawling up his throat. Not here... _Not now!_

“Penny?” Remy questioned groggily. “Y’ have a nightmare, _cher_?” The next question died on Remy’s lips when a sudden explosion of lust hit him with the force of a battering ram to the head. “Fuck!”

Spencer’s feline eyes snapped to the Cajun, pupils blown wide and face flushed. “Hurts.” He whimpered, his heat fully taking over and shoving away all inhibitions. A growl at his back had the small feral whirling about on the bed, fingers biting into the covers. Logan’s eyes were on him, the navy completely encompassed by bright gold, a fierce hunger etched into every line of his face.

Remy had no idea what was going on. The Wolverine was in complete control and wave after wave of desperate arousal exploded from Spencer, hitting him until he was drunk on the sensation and just as hungry for it.

Logan’s own wild want pulsed in the room, glazing his lover’s eyes, not that his Cajun was his main focus right now. _Heat. Mate. Breed. Heat. Mate. Breed. Heat. Mate. BREED!_ The mantra repeated over and over again in his head, crying out to be heard. Smothered by wanton desires, he dragged Spencer against him and kissed him hard, one hand fisting in the soft curls of his hair.

Spencer’s body melded against him. He was aware of Remy moving behind him and then Cajun’s lips were on his neck. Caught between the two, it was glorious.

Logan broke the kiss and moved downward, peeling clothing away as he went. His claws making quick work and bearing beautiful creamy skin to his exploration. Reaching his groin, he buried his face in the silken hard flesh waiting there and took a moment to breathe in Spencer’s unique scent. He was pleasantly surprised to find a natural well of slick leaking from the boy, his body readying itself to be bred. _“Mine!”_ The feral growled before pouncing on Spencer’s leaking cock.

Spencer groaned, head tossed back, his eyes burning with want.

Remy took that moment to capture his mouth in a hungry kiss. The red of his eyes was almost swallowed by the black of his pupils. Any restraint had melted away and only lust remained. His empathy had gone into overload and Remy could no longer yank his shields up, not with the feelings battering him. Hungering for both men before him, he gave in and drowned.

Logan teased and sucked and drove Spencer crazy. His cries consistently devoured by Remy’s kisses. Faster and faster he suckled, gold eyes locked on the two above him and when Spencer’s body finally tipped over the edge, Logan swallowed every delicate drop.

His shouts muffled against Remy’s mouth, Spencer sagged panting, curls stuck to his crimson cheeks. He watched Logan move, the feral’s hands working on his belt as he rid himself of his last bit of clothing, a hand stroking himself lazily. “More...” Spencer pleaded breathlessly.

With a wolfish grin, Logan moved between those soft pale thighs and pushed against the boy’s blistering heat. Spencer’s body gave way easily, sucking in Logan’s cock with greedy pulls. Once fully sheathed inside, Logan stilled, letting him adjust, kissing him tenderly, one hand rubbing lazily over Remy’s thigh.

“ _Beau_ ,” Remy commented in hushed tones, running his long fingers through Spencer’s honeyed coils.

“That he is,” Logan agreed.

“Move!” Spencer begged, trembling beneath him. “Hurts! Move... _please_!”

Obliging him, Logan began with slow even thrusts. His heavy cock slid in and out with ease and hit Spencer’s prostate on each return plunge, leaving him arching his back at the burst of fiery pleasure. Any awareness of what was happening was long gone. All he cared about, was ending the burning arousal.

Hands gripping those lovely supple thighs, Logan moved faster. His orgasm was already filling his balls in response to Spencer’s heat, not that the feral minded. Instinct told him his mate needed it. “Mine...Mate...Mine...Mate... _MINE!_ ” On one final harsh slap of his hips, Logan erupted inside the younger feral, his seed spilling forth in copious amounts.

Spencer cried out when he found his own end. His walls milked Logan for everything he had and the first wave momentarily abated. The fog lifted minutely, but not enough to cage Spencer’s wants and when Logan rolled off him a few moments later, he was instantly crawling into Remy’s lap. “More!”

Holy hell, the Cajun was happy to oblige. At some point Remy had lost his own clothing. It took little effort for him to situate Spencer comfortably and impale him on his length. “ _Dieu!_ ”

Spencer keened in delight. His hips shifted of their own accord. Riding the Cajun, Spencer chased the fresh orgasm already building. Anything to put out the inferno raging inside him.

Remy guided the rise and fall, his tongue and teeth scraping along the sharp angles of Spencer’s collarbone. The boy tasted divine! Faster and faster their coupling became until with a French profanity, Remy emptied inside him, his own release drawing Spencer’s and yet the boy still hungered...still begged...still pleaded.

As the pheromones raged, they could do nothing but give in.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Waking was an odd experience. Oh, Spencer had often woken to cold, to pain, to fear, but never to warm safety. Confused, the boy shifted and at the feel of naked bodies surrounding him, he went ice cold. Bursting up out of the bed, Spencer thumped to the floor, waking his bed mates.

“Spencer?”

“Penny?”

“What’s going on?!”

“Shit!”

The mix of words left Spencer’s head spinning. He watched Remy scramble up, just as stunned. The Cajun’s face twisting with several emotions. Logan, however, appeared to be the calmest of the three of them.

“Alright, pup...Calm down,” Logan encouraged, approaching Spencer with cautious steps.

“Calm down?!” Remy blustered across from them. “What de hell happened last night? I...My empathy...I couldn’t control it! I couldn’t stop!”

Spencer winced at the shock and fear wriggling through Remy’s words. “I-I’m sorry...I thought...I thought I had more time! I never...I never intended for this to happen!”

“Easy, Gumbo, back off,” Logan snapped, silencing his lover’s panic. Crouching down near Spencer, he kept back just enough so Spencer wouldn’t feel attacked or trapped. “Gumbo mentioned you were a carrier, but clearly he didn’t know your feral mutation runs toward a feline heat cycle.”

Tears welling, Spencer nodded. “I had my first ten months ago...I...I got pregnant with Hope and then...I didn’t know...I don’t feel any different prior to it. I just know I smell appealing to...to dominant ferals...”

Mid yanking on his jeans, Remy spun. “Wait... _what?_ Heat... _Pregnant?!_ ”

“You heard him, Gumbo.” Logan snapped. “What happened last night dragged out the feral in me and overwhelmed your powers and may have made one of us a father.”

“ _Mon dieu!_ ” Remy thumped heavily to his ass.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer apologised again. “I...I didn’t do this to trap you, I swear!”

“Whoa, whoa.” Remy went to him, more settled now. “Easy dere, _cher._ We’re not mad...None of dis is anyone’s fault. It’s just a bit of a shock. T’ be honest, Wolvie an’ me...We like y’...We had intended t’ pursue y’...Just not dis damn quick.”

“Listen,” Logan began grabbing his own clothes. “We need to take a breath. Gumbo and me will go grab breakfast and when we come back, we’ll talk about this. We just all need to get our heads around it.” Grabbing the comforter off the bed, he tossed it about Spencer’s naked form. “It’s gonna be okay, pup...Okay?”

Arms around himself, Spencer nodded. He barely paid heed as the two dressed and left, intent on giving him space. Body aching, exhaustion dragging, Spencer waited at the very most five minutes before he sprang into action. He liked Remy, liked Logan, but he was terrified of repeating what Creed had done to him. Any baby created in this insanity would be better off with just him.

Dressing quickly, ignoring the weighing lethargy, Spencer packed up what little he had and went for the balcony windows. Looking back, he fought the misery crawling up his throat.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

“You need to calm the freak out!” Logan hissed, following Remy into the kitchen. Thankfully for the early hour it was still empty.

“Y’ shittin’ me, Logan? We all but raped dat boy!” Remy snapped. “Po’ t’ing couldn’t help it an’ here us two brutes pounced him!”

“That’s not how it works, Rem.” Logan growled back, rooting through cupboards. “Feral mutations are tricky. The pup ain’t the first I’ve met with a more animalistic biology. We were just as trapped by his body’s heat as he was and had we not helped, he’dve been in a lot of pain.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any less like a creep.” Remy retorted. “An’ f’r m’ empathy t’ do dat? _Merde!_ Been years since I couldn’t shut it down. Penny’s arousal ripped t’rough m’ shields like dey were not’in...an’ an _enfant?!_ Y’ ready t’ be a father, Wolvie?! Cause I’m not!”

Logan barked a laugh. “Not a chance, but who ever is?” Aiming for the fridge, Logan pulled out eggs, bacon and milk. “It’ll be okay, Rem...I’d say the kid is having enough of a heart attack without us panicking too.”

“So what, we’ll just make him breakfast in bed an’ chat?” Remy demanded incredulous.

“For now, Gumbo, that’s the plan.”

Ignoring any further exclamations, Logan pottered about whipping up a spread for the three of them. There was pancakes, bacon and eggs and it was enough to feed ten! But then, Logan rarely cooked small and since Spencer had no doubt burnt out enough energy to flatten those same ten people, well, then he needed to refuel big time.

With food piled high on a tray the two headed back upstairs. With the hour they spent in the kitchen, others had begun trickling out from their rooms. The occasional greeting was tossed out, most sleepy and disgruntled. Amused, Logan shook his head and Remy chuckled. Together, the duo stepped into Spencer’s room and instantly knew something was wrong.

Spencer was gone.

* * *

 

_+_+_

* * *

 

Spencer stumbled tiredly away from the Xavier institute. In an hour he had gotten quite a bit away, especially when he had managed to grab a ride from a passing truck driver who asked no questions and dumped him just outside the Bronx. Considering what the filthy bastard had requested for going further, it was better than nothing.

Head pounding, muscles hurting and just plain drained, the young feral continued moving, until one wrong step overbalanced him and Spencer tumbled right out into traffic, the screech of tires a deafening scream.


	9. Caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Short chapter and I apologise for that. I'm stuck to be honest. So this is the best I came up with for this chapter. Hopefully it'll all flow better for the next one. This part just wanted to be stubborn and in all honesty, still sucks! -_-  
> Anyway, enjoy xxx

He was going to die. The minute he fell, the sound of squealing tires filling his ears, Spencer saw his death coming at him, but then it didn’t. Heart hammering, he lifted his head. The large black vehicle had managed to stop...but holy hell, just barely! Doors opening Spencer froze. The vicious cries of horns meant little to him and a moment later a large man filled his vision, eyes soft with concern and speaking lowly to him.

“...hear....me....kid?”

Frowning, Spencer pushed through the fog. “W-What?” He croaked shakily.

“Can you hear me?” The stranger repeated. “Are you hurt?”

“No...I...No...” Spencer stammered. “I...I’m fine...”

“Kid, you’re as white as a sheet,” the man commented. “Can you even stand?”

Could he? God! Nothing was firing right. Trying to stand, he stumbled just a little and the stranger caught him just before he ended up kissing the pavement a second time. With a whine of distress, Spencer clung to him. He was so tired, his body worn out to the point he was fit to pass out.

With a curse, the larger man turned a little and called out. “Em! Do we have a blanket in the back?!”

Em? Who was Em?! Spencer squirmed in the man’s grip and went stiff at the sight of a second person approaching. A slender woman with long dark hair and kind eyes. She smiled gently and held out a large chequered blanket.

The man grinned, “Thanks, Princess!” Throwing the blanket about Spencer’s shivering form, he kept a tight grip on him. “Alright, kid. I’m SSA Derek Morgan. This is SSA Emily Prentiss. We just wanna help you, okay?”

SSA? Wasn’t that an FBI title?! Panicking now, Spencer struggled. A snarling hiss worked its way up his throat and his feline eyes were all but glowing with temper. One hand popping free of the blanket, he unsheathed his claws. “Let go!”

“Whoa!” Derek exclaimed, but he didn’t back off. “Easy, kiddo. We are not gonna hurt you. But you look like you’re ready to collapse. I’d prefer it if you let us bring you somewhere to rest.” Derek didn’t bother pushing the hospital on him. He wasn’t the first mutant he had dealt with and most avoided the hospital like the plague.

Exhausted, Spencer retracted his claws. “I...Okay.” He eventually agreed.

Carefully, Derek helped him into the passenger seat of his car. Sleepy eyes looked up at him. “Spencer.” The young mutant said groggily. “My name is Spencer Reid.”

Before Derek could respond, Spencer had passed out, exhaustion finally catching up. Strapping him in and tucking the blanket about the mutant boy, he quickly skirted about the hood of the car and got behind the wheel. Emily was buckled up behind him and ready to go by the time he put the car in drive.

* * *

_+_+_

* * *

“What do y’ mean y’ can’t track him?!” Remy snapped, stalking toward Logan. They had gone after Spencer the minute they had realised he was missing, only to hit a dead end barely a few miles away from the institute. “Y should be able t’ catch his scent!”

“The trail ran cold, Gumbo!” Logan snapped back, just as frustrated. “Best guess...Someone picked him up.”

Dragging a hand through his hair, Remy was fit to rip it out in chunks. Why did he run?! They had told him it wasn’t his fault! They were going to work it out! Pacing back and forth, Remy yanked his cigarettes from his pocket and lit up. The first drag did nothing for his wired nerves, but by the fifth puff he was starting to calm down. Charles hadn’t called to say he had found him with Cerebro yet either...it was a mess!

“What if we can’t find him, Logan?” Remy asked after a moment of trying to yank in his frantic emotions. “De _homme_ could be out dere alone an’ pregnant t’ boot!”

“I know, darlin’,” Logan replied with a rough sigh. “But we can’t think like that. Spencer can’t have gotten far and when he settles, Chuck will be able to find him.”

Remy knew that deep down. But it didn’t make it any easier. Spencer had a tendency to run from the complications in his life and with Creed still hell bent on finding him, well, the Cajun wouldn’t be happy until they found him.

* * *

_+_+_

* * *

Spencer woke to some unfamiliar voices, hissed whispers and warmth. Body wrapped up in heavy blankets that smelled like typical hotel soap, the young feral forced his eyes open and saw not only that he wasn’t alone, but he only recognised the two faces of the FBI agents who had found him on the road. The others, he didn’t know and feeling cornered, a rare yowling snarl rippled through the mutant, immediately catching their attention.

“Whoa! Easy there kiddo,” Derek placated, springing toward him and blocking the others. “No one here is gonna hurt you.”

Feline eyes taking in the unfamiliar faces, Spencer willed his pounding heart to calm its tempo. He scented no threat. Uncoiling his lithe body, his eyes darted about. “Where am I?”

“My hotel room,” Derek told him gently. “You already know Emily and these are our other co-workers, SSA’s Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi and Jennifer Jareau.”

“You can call me JJ,” the blonde said with a friendly smile.

Being in a hotel room full of FBI agents was nothing short of terrifying. The last time Spencer had been this close to any form of authority, his powers had manifested. They had treated him like an animal and he had been treated hardly any better since.

“Are you handing me over to the MRD?” _Or God forbid, the FOH!_ “I haven’t done anything.”

“No, no we’re not,” Emily reassured, from where she stood at the end of the bed. “But we weren’t about to leave you in the middle of that road.”

“Is there anyone you want us to call for you?” Derek asked.

Was there? Part of him wanted to go back to Logan and Remy. Try to salvage whatever mess they may have made and wait to see if he was pregnant by one of them. He wanted so badly to see what it was to be cared for, to raise a child somewhere safe and without looking over his shoulder. He wanted to be somewhere that felt like home.

In a moment of clarity, Spencer realised he was an absolute idiot.

Logan and Remy were offering him all that and out of fear of _what ifs_ , he had run away at the first opportunity. Ignoring the calls from Derek and his team, the young feral scrambled from bed and darted from the hotel room. People moved with alarmed shouts and irritated cursing in the halls, but Spencer paid them no heed. He had but one thing in mind, what he hadn’t expected was who would be blocking the exit.

Spencer skidded to a stop before the hotel entrance, eyes widening at the sight of Creed looming before it.

“There you are, pet,” Creed purred lowly.

“Kid!”

Head snapping around, Spencer saw the Agents had followed him. “Not now! You need to stay back!” Facing Creed, Spencer weighed his options. But it was clear he was going through Creed or he wasn’t leaving. “This has got to stop, Victor! I won’t go with you!”

“You are _MY_ mate,” Creed snarled, taking an advancing step, only to stop dead. A scent had hit the large feral and rage engulfed him. “You were with _them!_ ”

“I don’t belong to you, Victor!” Spencer snapped. “You need to let me go!”

“Never!” Creed hissed. “You are _MINE!_ ”

The moment Creed’s hand went to the inside of his coat, the Agents pulled their guns, aiming them toward the mutant. Spencer didn’t bother pointing out that it would be no use. Creed didn’t produce a weapon. Instead, he held out a swatch of fabric. At first, Spencer didn’t understand, until the aroma attached to it hit him, chilling him down to his bones.

“No!”

Creed chuckled lowly. “Did you think I wouldn’t find her, pet? I’ll admit, you had her fairly well hidden, but I have my ways.”

“Don’t hurt her, Victor!” Spencer pleaded. “Not my mother! She isn’t part of this!”

“If it gets your attention,” Creed shrugged. “Now, pet, we’re going home.”

Creed took a step and the Agents advanced, blocking his access to Spencer. “That’s far enough.” Derek ground out. “One more step and I will drop you.”

Creed barked a laugh. “Shoot me all you want, it won’t do you much good.”

“Stay out of this,” Spencer hissed angrily. Shoving by them, he held a hand out to keep them back. “Leave them alone, Victor. I will go with you.”

Faster than the Agents could track, Creed lunged forward and grabbed Spencer by his hair, dragging him against his body. Spencer snarled from the sharp tug, but went without too much of a fight. For the sake of the Agents who had helped him, the innocent bystanders and his mother, he wasn’t going to do anything to put them in further danger.

“No more running,” Creed growled by his ear.

“No,” Spencer agreed with a pain grunt. “But know this Victor...You can force me all you like. I will never truly be yours.”

Creed bellowed in fury, pain exploded in Spencer’s head and everything faded out.


End file.
